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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29296596">things we lost in the fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/momochannie/pseuds/momochannie'>momochannie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stray Kids (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Crying, Degradation, Exes, Explicit Consent, Face-Fucking, M/M, Mild Blood, Miscommunication, Outdoor Sex, Panic Attacks, Referenced Past Underage Sex, Road Trips, mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts, side hyunsung if you squint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:49:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29296596</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/momochannie/pseuds/momochannie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chan broke up with Minho at the end of high school because he thought that it would be best for both of them. When Minho gets a letter from a friend in need, he has no choice but to ask Chan for help and a ride to their hometown. Somewhere along the winding mountain roads, Chan realizes he may have made the biggest mistake of his life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>151</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>SKZ Seasons of Love</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>things we lost in the fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SKZ_Seasons_of_Love">SKZ_Seasons_of_Love</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi, everyone! I'm so happy to be able to be a part of this fest. Big thank you to the mods for being so helpful and understanding. </p><p>The two biggest changes in here are the ship (which was okay to change, as per the prompt) and the letter, which ended up being more sad than mysterious. I do hope that I remained faithful to the prompt in every other respect, though. </p><p>Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you like it!</p><p>(here's a <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1VyCUPQsuB438gzE9kFbyX?si=8p_b3Yu6T8qYjiI0LeirLQ"> spotify playlist</a> I made and listened to while I wrote this, for ~vibes~ if you want to listen while you read) </p><p>  <strong>Original Prompt:</strong></p><p>Based on the fest’s autumn mood board:</p><p>Chan and Changbin, ex-boyfriends who find themselves on an autumn journey after receiving mysterious letters from a friend in the mountains.  </p><p>Looking for angsty road trip vibes! Closed quarters and the tension builds. Would love them to fight and air out the past and end up finally resolving the bitterness between them. This prompt is intentionally vague, so you can make things as complex or simple as you want! </p><p>Would love a happy ending of them agreeing to give their relationship a second shot, but I’m also cool with an open ending where they agree to put the past behind them and just try to coexist again.</p><p>((Change the ship if you want! Any rating! Go wild!!))</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chan was on his fourth cup of coffee that morning when he saw Minho on campus for the first time. They had been at school for months already, so he was surprised that they hadn’t run into each other sooner.</p><p>Really, they might never have seen each other if Chan hadn’t offered to cover Bambam’s shift that Saturday morning. They both worked at the mailroom; not the most glamorous work-study job, but a far cry from the jobs at the cafeteria that many in their freshman class had been roped into. </p><p>Mornings weren’t really Chan’s thing. He had stayed up the whole night, holed away in a practice room in the music building with his laptop and sound mixer, trying to come up with a perfect song for his composition class. He had completely forgotten that he had told Bambam that he could cover his shift until the “thank you” text had lit up his phone around 6 am. Hence, four cups of coffee.</p><p>No amount of caffeine would have prepared Chan to see his ex again for the first time since the beginning of summer, though. </p><p>Minho didn’t even look at him as he breezed in to check his mailbox, probably didn’t even know he was there. Chan knew, though, as soon as he walked in, head shooting up to track his movement. Chan felt his heart pounding in his ears.  </p><p>Chan was already comparing the image of the Minho he had just seen to the image of the boy he remembered. He had dyed his hair a shade of auburn that reminded him of the color that the trees that were turning outside. He never would have done that in high school, his parents would have killed him. Minho also looked more tired than he remembered, but maybe it was just the ugly florescent lighting.</p><p>A few minutes passed, Chan’s eyes trained on the doorway to the mailbox room. He didn’t know what Minho would say if he saw him again. They hadn’t exactly left things on good terms. For all intents and purposes, they lived in two different worlds now, far removed from each other and the sleepy mountain town they had grown up in.</p><p>Minho emerged from the mailroom, leaning against the door as he opened his letter. It would be really weird if he looked up and caught Chan staring. Maybe he would yell at him. But Chan couldn’t tear his eyes away.</p><p>Memories flooded his mind of first kisses, nights spent in the back of his truck, holding hands under the covers. Things Chan hadn’t let himself think about since he had ended things.</p><p>As Chan descended deeper into the past, Minho’s face began to change from neutral to highly concerned as he read the letter. It pulled Chan back to the present. Minho hardly ever let any of the emotions that he felt show on his face. Chan felt a tug in his chest, a pull towards Minho.</p><p>“Is everything okay?” Chan asked, without even thinking. </p><p>He immediately brought his hand up to cover his mouth. Why did he do that? Now Minho was looking at him with eyes full of panic, and Chan suspected he didn’t look much better.</p><p>Adrenaline coursed through him. Neither of them said anything for a moment. They just looked at each other. He did look tired, with dark bags under his eyes. Chan could understand the feeling. He drank in everything he could about Minho before he wasn’t able to again. </p><p>But instead of yelling at him or telling him to mind his own business, Minho walked up to where Chan was sitting at his desk and held the letter out to him.</p><p>“Jisung,” he said, his voice a whisper. </p><p>Chan glanced between Minho’s face and the letter, finally deciding to take it. </p><p>Minho and Chan had both grown up in a tiny town in the mountains called Haven. It was only populated by about 5,000 people, and, although it got a lot of tourists in summertime, it wasn’t big enough or central enough for companies to justify bringing cell towers or the internet out there. The primary methods of communication were still landline telephones and letters. </p><p>When Chan had first come to the city to go to school, he had had no idea how to use a cell phone. He’d been teased relentlessly as an old man by his new college friends, but they had helped him figure it out. </p><p>It wasn’t really easy to communicate with their friends who were younger than them and still in high school though, hence the letters. Chan smoothed out the paper and began reading.</p><p>
  <i>Yo, Minho</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I know I could have just called you but I didn’t think I would be able to get out the words I wanted to if I didn’t write it out. Anyway, here goes nothing.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>It’s been really hard since you, Chan, and Changbin left. I feel so alone with three of my best friends completely out of reach. Everyone else feels that way too, but no one wants to talk about it. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>You know how Hyunjin and I always planned to go to State together and be roommates? Well, he’s saying he wants to go to some fancy art school now. And honestly, I understand, but it just makes me so mad. I just want one person not to leave me. I’m so sick of feeling so alone.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>It’s getting to a really bad point. I feel so terrible all the time and now Hyunjin isn’t talking to me. And because Hyunjin isn’t talking to me, we all barely hang out anymore.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>It’s like the seams that held us all together are falling apart. I feel like I’m falling apart. I don’t even know how to fix it, though. How am I supposed to be okay with all of this? Life just turned into one big fucking nightmare when you left and I’m just so tired. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I just want to go to sleep and never wake up at this point. Sorry to overload you with this, but I had to tell someone. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I’m not even going to see you over the holidays because we’re going to visit my grandparents. So I guess I’m just never going to see you in-person again. I hope you’re doing well, though. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Love, Jisung</i>
</p><p>Chan put down the letter and let out a long breath. He had heard from Felix that things were getting bad, but he didn’t know that they were this bad. That his best friends weren’t even talking to each other anymore. </p><p>He looked up and met Minho’s gaze again. His eyes were pleading, begging Chan for any help he could give him. He knew Minho was out of his depth.</p><p>“You should try calling him,” Chan said.</p><p>Minho nodded and took out his phone (purple with cat stickers on the back) and typed in Jisung’s home number with shaky hands. He paced in front of the desk, biting at his lip as he waited for someone to answer.</p><p>After a minute or so, Minho brought the phone away from his ear and re-dialed. Chan felt an ache in his chest. He stepped out from behind the desk as Minho brought the phone down again. He was taking rapid, shallow breaths, his eyes far away. He caught Minho’s wrist before he could dial again. </p><p>“Hey,” Chan said. “Look at me.”</p><p>Minho met his eyes, all awkwardness and residual anger drowned out by the fear they both felt. </p><p>“He’s probably just not home,” Chan said, trying to reassure him.</p><p>“Chan, what if he does something?” Minho said. “His depression has never been this bad, and he’s alone and-”</p><p>“Hey,” Chan said. “He’s gonna be okay.”</p><p>Minho yanked his hand away. “But what if he’s not?” He turned his back to Chan, hugging his arms to him.</p><p>“Min,” Chan said, softly. “There’s nothing we can do.”</p><p>They stayed there for a while, not moving, not speaking. Chan clenched his hands, his arms hanging helplessly at his sides. He wanted to reach out to Minho, wrap his arms around his waist, plant kisses in his hair. But he couldn’t. That wasn’t them anymore. Minho was so far away.</p><p>He was worried about Jisung too, but he didn’t know what to do either. He was barely holding it together himself, he didn’t have the first clue as to how to patch someone else back up. </p><p>Minho whirled around suddenly, turning back to Chan. “We could go visit,” he said.</p><p>“Minho, I don’t know,” Chan said.  </p><p>“Please,” Minho said, taking a step towards him. “I don’t have a car.”</p><p>This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea. Just being around Minho for the past few minutes had made Chan rethink every decision he’s made in the past year.</p><p>“I need to know he’s okay,” Minho pleaded. </p><p>Chan closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know if he could make it through a whole weekend with Minho. Didn’t know if he would be able to stand the ache in his chest. But for all their sakes, he needed to. He needed to do this for Minho and for Jisung, and the rest of his friends he had left behind. </p><p>“Fine,” Chan said. “I’m off work at noon. Let’s meet at the cafeteria.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Minho said. Then, he walked out the door, leaving Chan alone again. </p><p>Hardly anyone else came in during his shift, which Chan was thankful for, his mind racing with what-ifs and worst case scenarios. He called his home phone and let his mom know that he would be home that weekend. Thankfully, she was so excited to see him that she didn’t ask many questions as to why. </p><p>When noon rolled around, Chan booked it back to his room, threw some clothes in a bag and headed back out to the cafeteria. Minho was leaning against the wall, staring into the distance. He had on a face that would fool the rest of the world into thinking he was okay. Chan had seen it enough to see right through it. </p><p>“Hey,” Chan called as he walked up. </p><p>Minho didn’t smile at him. That was fine, Chan had expected as much. With the crisis sorted out as much as it could be right now, Minho had likely remembered how much of an asshole Chan was. Chan couldn’t help but remember too.</p><p>“You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me just because you feel bad for me,” Minho said.</p><p>Chan sighed. “Do you think I would drive a sixteen hour roundtrip with you just to be nice?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Minho said. “I don’t really know you anymore, do I Chan?”</p><p>“Let’s just go,” Chan said. He turned his back and began walking to the student parking lot. He didn’t look back to see if Minho was following. </p><p>Chan still drove the same shitty little red truck (named Gunther) that he had in high school. It looked out of place amongst the low sitting cars owned by most of the other on-campus residents. He took the duffle bag from off of Minho’s shoulder and chucked it in the back of the car. </p><p>“Hey,” Minho said. “There could be something breakable in there.”</p><p>Chan raised an eyebrow at him. “But there wasn’t, was there?” </p><p>“Shut up,” Minho said, opening the passenger-side door and flopping down on the seat. He knew the truck well enough to know how much force it would take to slam the door. </p><p>Chan slid behind the wheel and forced the engine to sputter to life. “He missed you,” Chan said. “It usually takes at least two tries these days to get him started.”</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Minho said, crossing his arms. “I should have gotten him in the divorce.” </p><p>Chan choked out an involuntary laugh.</p><p>They were both quiet as Chan drove out of the university and onto the nearest freeway. The silence was uncomfortable, something Chan wasn’t used to with Minho. They had been best friends since they were old enough to know what that meant. </p><p>Ever since Chan could remember, he had had his best friends by his side. Chan, Changbin, and Minho had all been in the same kindergarten class, where they’d played games together at recess and insisted on playdates almost every weekend. A couple years after that, they had met Jisung, Felix, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jeongin who were in the grade under them. </p><p>A lot had changed in Chan’s last year of high school. It was only now, with Minho here, in the passenger seat beside him, where it felt like he was meant to be, that Chan felt the hole inside of him that his absence had left like a punch to the gut. </p><p>He wove around cars, probably going faster than was advisable for a little, shitty truck on the freeway. The anxiety was beginning to crawl up his throat. This had been a really terrible idea. </p><p>“Can I pick one?” Minho said from beside him. </p><p>Chan blinked, momentarily pulled out of the rising pool of anxiety currently trying to swallow him whole. A glance at Minho showed him holding up Chan’s binder full of CDs that he had been accumulating since he was a kid. </p><p>“Sure,” Chan said with a shrug that he hoped portrayed him as nonchalant. </p><p>As Chan drove out of the city for the first time since he had started college, Minho flipped through the CDs he had seen probably a million and one times before. </p><p>“You really need to update your collection,” Minho said. </p><p>“Hey,” Chan said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite himself. “Don’t knock the classics.” </p><p>Minho laughed. “I don’t think this weird combination of Ed Sheeran and My Chemical Romance is really the ‘classics’,” he said. </p><p>“Look, I don’t make fun of you for your obsession with sad girl pop,” Chan said. </p><p>“Speaking of,” Minho muttered. He ejected the disk that was currently in the ancient CD player (Brand New Eyes by Paramore) and stuck in his own pick. The beginning notes of Pure Heroine by Lorde, which he hadn’t listened to in a long time rang through the truck. </p><p>Now that the traffic had thinned out, he chanced a longer glance at the boy beside him. Minho currently had his head tilted towards the passenger side window as he sang along to Tennis Court. It seemed like it had been a lifetime ago since they had been together like this, but really it had only been a few months. </p><p>Chan was almost glad that he didn’t have cruise control because he had to focus all of his attention on the road, and not on the effect that hearing Minho sing again had on him. It was like a warm cup of coffee on a cold day. It was like the fresh morning air after a night out. Chan had missed it so much, and he didn’t want to think about how short their time was. He didn’t want to think about much of anything, because any road he went down in his train of thought led to places he didn’t want to go. </p><p>“How have classes been so far?” Chan asked, hoping to distract himself, keep the conversation light. </p><p>“Pretty terrible,” Minho said with a sigh. “They’re mostly all general education classes that everyone has to take and midterms kicked my ass.” </p><p>“Too much partying?” Chan asked with a smile that even a stranger would have been able to tell was forced. </p><p>“No, idiot,” Minho said. “Too many dance auditions.”</p><p>Chan didn’t say anything in response to that. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or sad. On one hand, he knew that Minho had always talked about college as a place to make new friends and become a different person, a place where he wasn’t held back by what he was in their hometown. On the other hand, it was good to hear that he hadn’t changed that much.</p><p>Minho had been the captain of the small dance team at their high school. Chan knew there was nothing he wanted more in the world than to be able to do what he loved as a career. </p><p>“What about you?” Minho asked. “Music classes kicking your ass yet?”</p><p>“I’m only taking one this semester,” Chan said. “But I really love it.” He didn’t add how that was because he wasn’t majoring in music anymore. But it didn’t really matter. </p><p>His last semester of high school, Chan had come to terms with a lot of things about his life. He had realized that he was the only one of his siblings who even had an inkling of interest in taking over Haven General Store, which his parents owned. It wasn’t like they were pressuring him, but he knew how sad they would be if all that work they put into the business they built went to waste after they died. So Chan was getting a business degree and would return to their town when he was finished. Music was just a hobby. Would he like things to be different? Sure. But they weren’t.</p><p>Minho, on the other hand, had always dreamed of doing big things, of being a professional dancer or running his own studio. Who was his high school sweetheart to hold him back from that just because he had to think practically?</p><p>“Have you talked to Changbin recently?” Minho asked. </p><p>“Yeah,” Chan said. “We talk a lot. Why?”</p><p>“I just feel like it’s been a while since I’ve talked with anyone from high school except Jisung.”</p><p>“Well, Changbin is the only one I talk to a lot, just because he doesn’t have to use a landline like it’s the 80s.” </p><p>Minho let out a little laugh. “Yeah, I never found that weird until I came here.”</p><p>“It’s nice,” Chan said. “But sometimes I miss living there. Even with the lack of internet.”</p><p>“Me too,” Minho said, but his voice was far away. </p><p>They sat listening to the end of Pure Heroine as the mountains got steadily closer in the distance. Chan turned off the freeway and onto one of the winding country roads that led to their home as Minho put on a Bon Iver album. </p><p>“Well, this is depressing,” Chan said under his breath. </p><p>“Yeah, well, I’m sad,” Minho said, turning his body toward the window.  </p><p>As much as Chan so badly wanted to say some snide comment about how ‘that was a first’, he held himself back. It wasn’t like Minho to be so casually emotional about anything, even when they had been dating. It had taken time and patience to drag nearly anything out of him about how he was feeling. </p><p>“Minho…”</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped. “To you of all people.”</p><p>Chan rolled his eyes. “Well, you never did, did you?” Well, now he’d done it.</p><p>“You know, you’re really fucking annoying when you act all high and mighty,” Minho said with a sneer. “Sorry that this is so easy for you.”</p><p>“You actually think this is easy for me?” Chan asked. They had arrived at a small bump-in-the-road town and Chan scanned around for a gas station, some place to stop to get away from this conversation even for just a moment. </p><p>“It seems like you’re having a grand time without me in your life,” Minho said. </p><p>Chan pulled into a Chevron gas station next to one of the pumps and turned the car off. “Whatever.” Was all he could manage as he wrenched the car door open. Minho wasn’t the only one who was good at slamming doors. </p><p>It wasn’t really Minho’s fault that he thought that Chan didn’t care. Chan hadn’t given him a reason not to when he had broken up with him. He still remembered that night, sitting in Minho’s room across from him on the bed as the boy he loved grew stone cold in front of him. Chan had managed to hurt him so badly. But what choice had he had? It was what was best of both of them, even if Minho didn’t have all the details. If it meant both himself and Minho hating him, that was okay. </p><p>As Chan filled the half-empty tank full with gas, Minho stalked into the store and came back out with a bag full of snacks. It made Chan’s heart soften just a bit to see Minho’s tried and true method of coping.</p><p>The next three hours passed in silence, with a periodic change in music. Chan didn’t want to speak and somehow make it worse. He had already royally fucked up as it was. Occasionally, he snuck glances over at Minho, who varied between looking at his phone and looking out the window.</p><p>As they trekked across the flatlands and began their ascent into the mountains, the trees became thicker, the road in front of them more colorful. The leaves of the birches and maples filled to bursting with gorgeous yellows, oranges, and reds before they lost everything to the winter chill. The sun began to set behind the mountains, casting long shadows on the road. Chan flicked his headlights on. </p><p>The air coming through the vents in his truck was the kind of fresh air you just couldn’t get in the city. He rolled down his crank window to get even more of it, savoring it while he still could. Minho rolled his window down completely and stuck his arm out. </p><p>A memory came back to Chan, then. It must have been sometime during their sophomore or junior year. Chan had been driving through the streets of Haven with the windows down. It was the beginning of summer, the leaves displaying a brilliant green. Chan doesn’t remember what they were talking about, but Minho had turned to him with the biggest smile he had ever seen, his fingers splayed out to catch the wind. </p><p>Chan can’t remember ever feeling more in love than he did when Minho smiled at him. He had almost run a red light. </p><p>He was pulled back to the present when the headlights began to flicker on the darkening highway. “Is that supposed to happen?” Minho asked helpfully.</p><p>“Do you <i>think</i> that’s supposed to happen?” </p><p>“I was just trying to help, idiot.” </p><p>Chan had suspected there had been something wrong with the alternator for a while now. The engine had difficulty starting these days. He’d just hoped that it would make it to Haven and back without having to spend the money to replace it. </p><p>All his hopes were dashed, however, when the engine began to make the telltale signs that it was about to imminently shut off. </p><p>“Fuck,” Chan whispered.</p><p>“Okay, I <i>know</i> that’s not supposed to happen,” Minho said. </p><p>Chan pulled them over to the side of the road and shut off the engine. This was, to put it lightly, a disaster. </p><p>He hopped out of the truck and walked around to the front. Smoke billowed out from under the hood as he forced it open. He waved his hand in front of his face, trying to get the smoke away from his eyes and lungs, but inevitably coughing. </p><p>“Well. That looks like it’s broken,” Minho said, peering over Chan’s shoulder. </p><p>“Like you would know that.”</p><p>He was right, though. There was nothing he could really do at this point to make it better. He was going to need to replace the entire alternator. The only problem was that he didn’t think there was an auto shop in the middle of nowhere.</p><p>“But it’s broken, right?” Minho asked, following him as he walked around to the passenger’s side, away from the road. </p><p>“Yeah, Minho,” he said, taking out his phone. “It’s fucking broken.”</p><p>“Poor Gunther,” Minho said. He caressed the siding, as if to comfort the truck. It probably would have made Chan crack a smile if he wasn’t so worried about being stranded in the woods with his ex-boyfriend. </p><p>Thankfully, at this point they were still close enough to civilization to have cell service. Chan saw that they were a little less than an hour away from the small town of Winwood, and they happened to have a towing company. After a quick call and giving them the road and approximate mile marker, help was on the way. </p><p>“Never a dull moment with you, Chan,” Minho said. </p><p>“It’s not my fault I’m too poor to fix my truck,” Chan grumbled. </p><p>“That’s why I don’t drive.”</p><p>“I know. That’s why we’re in this situation.”</p><p>Chan reached into the backseat and pulled out some blankets that he kept there. He threw one at Minho with a little too much force and climbed into the bed of the truck. </p><p>Wrapped in a blanket and leaning back against the cab, Chan could only be described as pouting. This really had just gone the worst way it could possibly go, barring them being eaten by mountain lions (which could still possibly happen). </p><p>“You’re so fucking dramatic,” Minho said, sitting down next to him, also wrapped in a blanket. Chan resolutely did not think about the fact that he was pressed against his side.  </p><p>“This is kind of a dramatic situation,” Chan said. </p><p>“Eh, it’s not so bad,” Minho said. “Remember when Hyunjin almost wrecked into the side of that church when you were trying to teach him to drive?”</p><p>“Oh god, how could I forget?” Chan looked up at the dusky sky. “You never forget your first time getting whiplash.”</p><p>Minho laughed. “Has he even gotten his license yet?”</p><p>“I doubt it,” Chan said. “Jisung and Seungmin were the only ones out of all of them who were good at driving.”</p><p>“They probably replaced you as chauffeur.” Minho smiled.</p><p>“Nah,” Chan said, nugging his shoulder. “I still am.”</p><p>Minho rolled his eyes at him. “I guess that’s true.”</p><p>Chan picked at the seam of the blanket as it became quiet again. It felt comfortable this time, though, despite the situation they were in. Minho had always had a way of calming him down without letting him know that was what he was doing. Maybe they hadn’t become as estranged to each other as Chan had thought. It was a while later, when the sun was almost completely gone behind the trees when Chan spoke again. </p><p>“A lot of memories in the back of this truck,” Chan said, a smile in his voice.</p><p>Minho made a noise like he was choking and turned toward him. “Oh, is that what you’re choosing to bring up?”</p><p>Chan just shrugged. “Not like we both weren’t thinking about it.”</p><p>They’d had sex in the back of this truck more times than Chan could count. They had both had their first times here, in fact. When you were horny teenagers with nosy families, you made do with what you could. </p><p>“Yeah, but you didn’t have to say it,” Minho said, his cheeks and ears growing bright red. </p><p>Chan’s smile grew wider, his tongue poking out of his mouth. He had always loved to get Minho flustered. And right now, it seemed almost like they had left the past behind and they were in a little bubble all to themselves. But maybe that was just Chan, wishing and hoping.</p><p>He really had never stopped thinking about Minho. He was there, in the little gestures he had picked up from him, the hundreds of stories he still told about them. Chan heard Minho’s moans and sighs in his ear when he touched himself, remembered how he looked when Chan was inside of him, or when he was wrecking Chan. </p><p>Minho almost took up more space in his brain now than when they were dating. Chan knew it wasn’t healthy, that he needed to move on, but he hadn’t broken up with Minho because he didn’t love him. He knew that no matter what he did, he would always love him. That was something he would have to live with forever.</p><p>But, right then, Minho was right there in front of him, he was real. And Chan didn’t think he was imagining the way he was looking at him. </p><p>Just as quickly as the moment came, the moment passed. Minho stood up, getting out of the truck with his blanket wrapped around his shoulders. </p><p>Shit. Chan had pushed too far, too fast. He was always either too much or too little. There had never been a happy medium with him, and it made him feel like shit. He was too little for Minho towards the end of their relationship, letting stress occupy too much of his time. Now, he was too much.</p><p>He got up and went to stand by Minho at the front of the truck. </p><p>“I’m so sorry, Min,” he said, quietly. “I really shouldn’t have brought it up.”</p><p>“You’re so stupid, Chan. Do you even care at all?” he snapped at Chan, turning to face him. “Did you ever even care? Or was I just a stupid high school fuck buddy you were always going to drop?”</p><p>“Minho.” Chan swallowed around the lump in his throat. “It wasn’t like that. You know it wasn’t like that.”</p><p>“No,” Minho said. “Shut up. I don’t know anything. I thought I knew that you loved me. But you didn’t. So now I don’t know fucking anything. That was the only thing in my whole life I was sure of, but you took that away from me.”</p><p>“I—” He stopped, biting his lip to keep from saying that he still loved him. “I loved you, Minho. I did. You have to understand that. I just…. Things changed.”</p><p>Tears welled in Minho’s eyes, threatening to spill out. He brought his hands up clutching them to his chest. “I don’t believe you,” he said. </p><p>Chan squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m so sorry, Minho,” he said, his voice breaking. “I never wanted to hurt you.” </p><p>“Fuck you,” Minho mumbled from behind the hand that was covering his mouth. “You’re not allowed to care anymore.”</p><p>“But I do,” Chan said. “God, I do. I care, Minho.”</p><p>He surged forward, blanket falling off of his shoulder. “That’s not fucking fair,” he yelled, pointing at Chan, digging the finger into his chest. His eyes were wild and Chan felt like all the breath had been knocked out of him. </p><p>Chan wrapped his hand around Minho’s wrist, pulling the hand to his sternum. “I know,” he said, softly, a wry smile on his face.</p><p>Minho shook his head. “You’re the fucking worst.” But that wasn’t the story his face told. He was hurt, broken, and angry, of course —  but there was something underneath, a flicker of hope.</p><p>“I know,” Chan repeated. </p><p>“You broke my heart.” Minho’s other hand clutched the front of Chan’s shirt. </p><p>“I know.” Chan brought his free hand up to Minho’s face. He brushed away a stray tear before it could fall.</p><p>“This is so stupid,” Minho muttered, almost to himself, before he leaned forward and kissed Chan.</p><p>It was muscle memory, the easy way their lips found each other again. Minho was kissing him like he was hungry for it, taking everything Chan could give. Chan pulled him in closer, scared that if he didn’t, he would disappear. It was hard to convince himself that this was even real. </p><p>Minho bit his bottom lip hard, drawing blood. Chan groaned at the pain, at the tang of blood as Minho’s tongue brushed his. </p><p>This wasn’t love, this wasn’t the beautiful thing that Chan used to feel around him. But it was at least something, a part of Minho that made Chan hopeful that he hadn’t lost him forever. </p><p>Minho pressed him back against the hood of the truck, never breaking away from him. He bent down to Chan’s neck, biting and sucking a bruise. Chan’s hands tangled in his hair as he let out a moan. Minho held Chan in place, one hand on his hip, the other holding his head to the side. </p><p>“You’re the worst,” Minho whispered before he crushed their lips together again. </p><p>Before they could even kiss again in earnest, headlights washed over them. A brief glance told Chan that it was their tow truck. It was like a bucket of cold water. Minho jumped away from Chan, rushing to make himself presentable again, Chan doing the same. </p><p>Chan looked over at Minho, who was looking anywhere other than at Chan. Red colored his cheeks and his eyes looked glassy. Chan was sure he looked much worse. He shook his head, pushing everything that had just happened to the back of his mind. If he had it his way, it would just stay there. But things were rarely that easy.</p><p>“You boys were the ones who called for a tow truck, weren’t you?” Called the tow truck driver as he walked over to them.</p><p>“Yes sir,” Chan said as he walked over to him, shaking his hand. “I’m Chan.”</p><p>“I’m Bruce. And who’s your boyfriend there?” </p><p>Chan coughed, trying to keep his composure as he pulled his hand back. He had definitely seen them kissing. </p><p>“My name is Minho,” he said. “And I’m not his boyfriend.”</p><p>Bruce held his hands up. “Sorry about that, you two just looked real cozy.”</p><p>Chan made panicked eye contact with Bruce and shook his head. </p><p>“Ahhh, I get it,” Bruce said, winking at him. “Not labeling it, very cool.” </p><p>Minho stomped away from them and got both of their bags. He walked back, past Chan and Bruce, and threw the bags in the back seat of the tow truck. </p><p>“Can we get going?” Minho asked, an obviously pained smile stretched across his face.</p><p>“Fine by me,” Bruce said. </p><p>Chan helped him attach the tow hook to the undercarriage of his truck. After putting Gunther in neutral and giving him a pat for luck, he situated himself in the front seat while Minho sat in the back. </p><p>“Make sure to buckle up, everyone,” Bruce said as he pulled out onto the road. “Oh, and by the way, there’s a whole mess of food back there in that cooler.”</p><p>“Are you going to charge us extra for it?” Minho asked. </p><p>“Nah, included in the price of admission,” Bruce said. “Figured everyone can use a pick-me-up after being stranded.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Chan said. Minho handed him a ham and cheese sandwich. “Free dinner.”</p><p>“So where are you boys headed?” Bruce asked. </p><p>“Haven,” Chan said. “We’re both originally from there.” </p><p>“Ah, going home to meet the parents?”</p><p>Chan snorted a laugh. “No, his mom already loves me.” He could almost feel Minho rolling his eyes. </p><p>“Well, that should make things easier. You know, in the romance department.”</p><p>“Oh my god, can we please not talk about this,” Minho said, irritation almost pushing his words into a yell. </p><p>Chan averted his eyes to the view outside the window. “Sorry,” he said, not sure which person in the car he was talking to. “It’s a little bit of a touchy subject.”</p><p>To Bruce’s credit, he didn’t directly bring it up again, though he did allude to it plenty. By the time they reached Winwood, the air in the truck was thick with unspoken tension. The sun had completely gone down now and the town had already closed down for the night. Bruce pulled up to the mechanic shop but, like everything else they had driven by, it was closed.</p><p>“Well, it looks like you’ll just have to wait until the morning,” Bruce said helpfully. “There’s a motel just there down the road. I could give you a lift.”</p><p>“That would be great,” Chan said. </p><p>Bruce unhitched Gunther and left him outside of the shop. As they stood outside, waiting for Bruce to write a note for the mechanics in the morning, Chan let the surrealness of their situation wash over him. </p><p>“This is just fan-fucking-tastic,” Minho said.</p><p>Chan smirked at him. “I thought you said it wasn’t that bad earlier.”</p><p>“That was before I realized I had to be around you all goddamn night,” he said, moving to claim shotgun this time. </p><p>Chan rolled his eyes and got in the backseat, but the rising tide of anxiety in him was getting harder and harder to ignore. What if Minho just acted like nothing had happened between them? Or worse, ignored him again? He would rather a fight, would rather anything in the world than Minho never speaking to him again. </p><p>Just a couple of minutes later, they arrived at the motel, a little local place called the Maple Hill. Chan felt his stomach drop at the thought of being alone with Minho again. </p><p>“There you boys go,” Bruce said. </p><p>Minho headed towards the lobby to get a room, while Chan paid for the tow truck. When he was done and about to walk away, Bruce winked at him and said “Good luck with that one.” </p><p>Chan could feel his face heat up as he mumbled a thank you and took off towards the motel entrance. </p><p>When he walked through the sliding glass doors, he saw that Minho was already handing over his card to the lady at the front desk to pay.</p><p>“You don’t have to do that,” Chan said. </p><p>“You had to pay for the tow truck,” Minho said, not sparing him a glance. Chan supposed that was true, so he didn’t press it. “I got us a room with two twin beds.” </p><p>Chan didn’t know whether he was happy or sad that they wouldn’t have to share a bed like in a grocery store romance novel.</p><p>The hotel was a cute little place, decorated in oranges, reds, and browns. There was a small seating area in the lobby and a half-empty coffee next to mugs with the motel’s logo on them. They definitely could have done worse when picking a place to stay the night. Not that they had had much of a choice. </p><p>The front desk clerk handed them their room keys and gave them directions to their room. They padded across the decades old carpet down the hall to room 25. Minho slid the key into the slot and opened the door to reveal a small room with two beds, a dresser, and a TV, all decorated in the same shades as the lobby. It felt cozy.</p><p>Without a word, Minho walked to the bed nearest to the window, took out clothes and a bag of toiletries, and disappeared into the bathroom. </p><p>“Okay, then,” Chan whispered. He dropped his bag on the floor and flopped down on the second bed. When he checked his phone, he realized there was no signal, so he used the hotel phone to call his parents. He let them know what happened with his truck and how he would see them in the morning. They offered to come get him, but he said no. He didn’t want to have to answer any questions about him and Minho. And, besides, Minho had already paid for the room. </p><p>He heard the shower turn on just as he was getting off the phone. Chan rolled over and stared at the popcorn ceiling. The room was quiet except for the sound of running water. It gave Chan free time to think in a way that he hadn’t all day. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing.</p><p>Chan easily recalled the feeling of Minho’s lips on his, even if it wasn’t quite in the way he wanted it. It scared him a little, how easy it was to be pulled back into his orbit. But then again, he had never really left it. </p><p>His hand traced over the outline of his lips and over the small bite that was already beginning to heal, trying to convince himself that he didn’t need it again. There was a reason he and Minho had broken up. </p><p>Minho was so much brighter than their hometown. Chan knew that if it went on longer, if they shared a dorm room, then a little apartment where they woke up next to each other every morning, and then graduated, he would want to spend the rest of his life with Minho. But he couldn’t bring him down like that. </p><p> It would be the best of the both of them in the long run, but it was so hard to remember when the memory of Minho pinning him against the truck was overwhelming his better judgement. </p><p>The bathroom door opened and Minho walked out of the bathroom, pajama clad and towel-drying his damp hair. Chan felt his stomach flip, the image of Minho being so domestic doing something to his heart. God, why was he so stupid?</p><p>He sat up, his back against the headboard. Minho looked over at him, eyes wary still, but something soft hidden in them. </p><p>“Minho, we—”</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it,” Minho interrupted. “It’s not going to make anything better. It’s not like we can fix it.”</p><p>“So, we’re just going to pretend like it never happened?” Chan asked. </p><p>“Do you have a better idea?” Minho let the towel fall around his neck and crossed his arms in front of his chest. </p><p>“I mean,” Chan started to say. He cleared his throat, crossed his legs. “Do you need to get it out of your system?”</p><p>Minho raised his eyebrows, a mixture of surprise and skepticism coloring his features. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”</p><p>Chan, for the millionth time that day, felt a blush creeping up his neck. He looked at anywhere except Minho when he said, “I’m suggesting we finish what we started.”</p><p>His eyes tracked the towel as it fell from Minho’s neck and to the floor. </p><p>Minho sat on the edge of the bed by Chan’s feet.. “Is that what you want?”</p><p>“If it’s what you want,” Chan said, finally meeting his eyes. </p><p>“I need a yes or a no,” Minho said. </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Minho turned his body, kneeling on the bed in front of him. Chan couldn’t hide the desperation on his face. </p><p>“You remember our safe words?” Minho asked. </p><p>Chan nodded. “Cinamon,” he repeated. </p><p> He tried to ignore how his mind automatically latched onto the word ‘our’.</p><p>“You’re 100% sure?” Minho asked again.</p><p>“Oh my god, Minho,” Chan said, his voice on the edge of a whine. “Just fucking kiss me already.”</p><p>“You’re such a brat,” Minho said before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. </p><p>It was softer than last time, but only by a little. Chan couldn’t help the moan that pushed its way out of his chest at the feeling of Minho’s soft lips. He tangled his fingers in Minho’s wet hair, parted his lips for him. </p><p>Minho pushed his way in, tracing his tongue against Chan’s. He pulled Chan into his lap so that he was straddling him with a bruising hand on his hip. The hand in his hair tightened and pulled another noise out of him.</p><p>“God, you’re such a slut,” Minho said, breaking away from the kiss. His lips were still brushing Chan’s, letting him feel Minho’s smirk. </p><p>He pulled Chan’s hips down to grind against his thigh and soon he was doing it without prompting. The friction against his jeans had him fully hard and wanting as he panted against Minho’s neck. He could feel Minho filling out against his thigh too. </p><p>“So selfish,” Minho chastised. “I thought I was supposed to be the one getting off.” He slapped Chan’s ass. </p><p>“‘M sorry,” Chan mumbled, not slowing down, the stinging pain only making the pleasure that much sweeter. </p><p>Minho pushed him until his back hit the mattress. “Clearly not sorry enough,” he said in Chan’s ear. </p><p>He made quick work of Chan’s clothes now that he was laying down, leaving him completely naked. Minho leaned back on his heels to look at Chan. Chan felt the need to cover himself up, his hands twitching where they now rested at his sides. </p><p>“That’s all you’re good for now,” Minho sneered. “You’re just a pretty fuck toy.” </p><p>Chan hated how much this turned him on. How this was exactly what he wanted, what he needed right now. The shame made him look away, breaking their eye contact. </p><p>Minho pushed Chan’s legs up and apart, looking at his already weeping cock. “Poor little slut,” he said. He grabbed Chan’s chin, forcing him to look “But you’re going to have to wait.”</p><p>Minho’s hands moved to his own pants, unbuttoning them and pulling out his cock. “Come here.” </p><p>Chan scrambled over to him, already resting his head on Minho’s thigh. God, he had missed this, Minho overwhelming his senses in every possible way, pushing out all thoughts of anything else. He shivered when Minho brought his head closer with a hand in his hair. </p><p>“Beg for it,” Minho said, using his other hand to brush the tip against Chan’s plush lips, smearing precome on them.</p><p>“Please,” Chan whimpered. “I need you so badly. Missed your cock so much.”</p><p>“Hmm, that’s what I thought,” Minho said. “You want me to fuck your face, pretty whore?”</p><p>Chan opened his mouth, letting his tongue loll out. He looked up at Minho, eyes pleading. Minho ran the head of his dick against his tongue slowly. Chan wanted nothing more than to feel his cock hitting the back of his throat, but he knew how Minho was like when he got like this. He wanted to be in control, and Chan was happy with that, but right now, it was hard to resist. All he wanted was to feel Minho in his mouth like he was meant to be there.</p><p>Minho pushed farther into his mouth. Chan closed his lips around his cock as Minho began to shallowly thrust. Chan tried to subtly take in more, but was held in place with Minho’s hand tightening against his scalp. </p><p>“Fine. You want more?” Minho said in warning before he shoved Chan’s head all the way down, his nose pressing against soft hair. He choked a bit at first, but then moaned at the feeling as he relaxed his throat. Minho gave him time to adjust. “You always were such a little cockslut,” Minho said, his voice crackling. “It’s the only thing you’re good for, really.”</p><p>The way Minho was talking to him scratched an itch in Chan’s brain that he didn’t know was there. The overwhelming feeling of guilt that had been crushing him all day had finally found a way out.</p><p>Minho pulled his head back, giving him the room to thrust into Chan’s mouth again, forcing a gagging noise out of him. “Remember: two squeezes if it’s too much,” Minho said, sounding wrecked.</p><p>With a nod from Chan, he started fucking into his mouth in earnest. He held his head in place with a bruising grip, Chan feeling every thrust in the back of his throat. Minho was making broken little sounds that went straight to Chan’s dick.</p><p>Desperate for some friction, Chan started rubbing against the bed. He looked up at Minho’s face again. Minho hadn’t taken his eyes off of where Chan’s lips were stretched around his cock. Briefly his eyes flicked down the bed to where Chan was grinding into the mattress. </p><p>“Of course you’re getting off on this,” Minho said with a particularly hard thrust. “But you don’t get to come before me.” </p><p>He pulled out momentarily, flipping Chan over on his back and pulling a yelp out of him.<br/>
Minho straddled his face, thrusting down into his waiting mouth again. “Oh fuck yeah,” he groaned. </p><p>His thrusts were getting erratic, pulling whimpers out of both of them. The lack of friction made tears leak from Chan’s eyes. He wanted to come so bad. It was all too much, yet not enough. </p><p>“Gonna come down your throat.” Minho groaned, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled white-hot into Chan’s mouth. </p><p>Minho quickly pulled out and bent over to kiss him, tongue lapping at his own come as Chan swallowed around him. He didn’t pull away, kissing Chan lazily in his post-orgasm haze. Chan couldn’t stop from moaning as Minho pushed against his painfully hard cock with his thigh.</p><p>“Please,” Chan said, his voice hoarse. It seemed like the only thing he knew how to do right now was beg. </p><p>When Minho pulled away, Chan let out a noise that sounded a lot like a sob. He watched as Minho sat back against the headboard. He was still fully clothed and he tucked his softening cock back into his pants. </p><p>“Come here,” Minho said, holding out a hand to Chan. He found himself sitting in Minho’s lap again, fully naked as Minho ran his fingers up Chan’s chest. “You wanna ride my thighs again?”</p><p>All Chan could do was nod. Minho chuckled and pulled him closer. Chan gasped as he began to move erratically, chasing a release. Minho placed wet kisses along his neck, fingers splayed on his back. “You did so good,” he murmured, over and over again. Chan felt him sucking more bruises into his skin. </p><p>It was too close to the way they used to be. To the nights between them that could only be described as lovemaking. Chan felt tears well in his eyes. He whispered Minho’s name in his hair as he came and as he rode it out, he felt Minho rubbing circles in his skin. </p><p>The first thought that entered Chan’s mind after the fog of lust had dissipated was: holy shit, what did we just do? He sat back and looked at Minho who seemed to have the same thought. His eyes were wide, cheeks still stained red. </p><p>“Shower,” Chan choked out, stumbling off the bed and into the bathroom. </p><p>His body moved on its own, turning on the faucet, moving the curtain out of the way, stepping under the spray. His mind, on the other hand, was stuck on a repeat loop of <i>what did I do, what did I do, what did I do</i>.</p><p>Minho and Chan fucking was one thing. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea; maybe he would have felt like everything was falling apart anyway, but the way Chan had melted in his arms, had come to the sound of his voice, to the feeling of his fingertips against his skin? That was something entirely different. </p><p>He was still so in love with him. Of course, he knew that already, but the sheer power of what he felt in that moment brought him to his knees. He braced his hands against the cold porcelain of the floor of the shower as sobs overtook his body.</p><p>He was in love with Minho. He still wanted to be with Minho. He wished so desperately to wake up next to him, to hold his hand while he was driving, to kiss his forehead. </p><p>He was in love with Minho and he was an idiot. And now there was nothing he could do to fix it. Chan cried until he had nothing left, until his knees ached and his lungs were burning, but it didn’t make him feel any better. Maybe just a little more numb.</p><p>The water was beginning to go cold as Chan washed himself off. He shivered as he got out, quickly drying off. With a towel around his waist, he chanced a look at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and red from crying, his neck mottled with hickeys and bite marks. He touched them delicately, and willed himself not to cry again. </p><p>He had hoped that Minho would already be asleep by the time he got out of the shower, but of course, with Chan’s terrible luck, he wasn’t. He had moved to his own bed now, looking as though he was waiting for Chan.</p><p>Minho knit his eyebrows together in concern when he looked at Chan’s face. “If I was too rough or I hurt you, I’m so sorry, Chan.” </p><p>“You didn’t,” Chan said. He looked away to pull pajamas out of his suitcase. The bed shifted as Minho got up. </p><p>“Chan, something is clearly wrong,” he said, coming up beside Chan. “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have gone that far.”</p><p>“I’m fine, I promise,” Chan said, ducking around the corner into the hallway to change. He threw the towel under the sink in the bathroom and came back into the bedroom. Minho’s expression had gotten even darker. </p><p>“Please tell me what’s wrong,” Minho pleaded softly. </p><p>Chan closed his eyes, feeling the tears well up behind his eyelids again. It seemed like he was getting his whole year’s worth of crying done in one go. He opened his eyes and looked up, keeping the tears from falling.</p><p>“I’m the worst person in the world. That’s what's wrong,” Chan said. His voice had come out smaller than he had meant for it to. </p><p>“Chan, I didn’t mean any of that—” </p><p>“But I am. I’m a bad person. I broke your heart, I didn’t even tell you why, didn’t talk to you for months, and now you’re here and I’m still—” He broke off with a hiccuping sob, covering his mouth with his hand as more wracked through him. </p><p>Minho took his other hand and led him to sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of him on the floor. “Hey, deep breaths.”</p><p>Chan registered it, but couldn’t easily do it. His breaths were shaky, unruly. </p><p>“You’re okay,” Minho said. He squeezed his hand. “Come on, breathe with me.” He cupped Chan’s cheek with his other hand, forcing him to look at him. “In.” Chan breathed in. “Out.” Chan breathed out. He did it over and over again until his body took back over for him.</p><p>Minho stroked his thumb along his damp cheek. He gave Chan a soft smile. “There you are.”</p><p>All Chan could see was Minho, all he could feel was Minho. And this time it wasn’t overwhelming. This time he felt safe in a way that he hadn’t in a long time. </p><p>“I still love you,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “And I’m sorry about that.”</p><p>Minho was quiet for a while. “We can deal with that tomorrow, okay?” He squeezed Chan’s hand again. “When we’re both calmer.” He always was the more level headed one, even though Chan had always tried so hard to be that way. </p><p>“Okay,” Chan agreed. </p><p>“Do you wanna cuddle?”</p><p>Chan pursed his lips and nodded. He followed Minho to the bed that hadn’t been soiled by sex. Minho lifted the covers and crawled in, pulling Chan down to rest against his chest. He breathed in the smell of clean laundry mixed with Minho’s scent. It felt like coming home. It wasn’t long before exhaustion overtook him and pulled him down into a deep sleep.</p><p>…</p><p>The sunlight coming through the windows pulled Chan gently out of sleep. For a moment he didn’t remember anything at all, just knew that he was cuddling with Minho who was currently splayed across him, his head pillowed on his chest. He wrapped his arms tighter around him.</p><p>It struck him then that this wasn’t normal anymore, and then it all came rushing back to him. The drive, the fight, the sex. He was on the edge of panic again in an instant. But then Minho shifted in his sleep, wrapping an arm around his waist and nuzzling against his chest, and the panic melted away to a softer sort of yearning. </p><p>Whatever was going on between them, it was better than nothing. At least something was happening. Chan wasn’t going to let it slip away again. </p><p>A glance at the clock told him that he was a little past 8 a.m. They really should get up and get down to the mechanic’s shop which opened at 9, but he couldn’t bear to wake Minho up. He carded a hand through his soft, auburn hair. </p><p>He really was an idiot to ever think that he was over him. That he could have ever truly let him go. </p><p>After a while, Minho began to stir. He made adorable noises as he woke up, tightening his arms around Chan as he stretched. Chan couldn’t wipe the soft smile off of his face, even when Minho looked up at him, his chin on Chan’s chest and eyes still droopy with sleep. </p><p>“Morning,” Minho mumbled. </p><p>“Morning.” Chan traced his fingers along Minho’s scalp as they looked at each other. It felt like they were in a trance. Time didn’t matter, the past didn’t matter, just the way the morning sunlight looked on Minho’s face. The way he breathed. The smell of hotel shampoo in his hair.</p><p>The spell was broken by the ringing of their hotel room phone, startling them. Minho crawled across Chan to grab for it. </p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>Chan couldn’t hear what was being said, but Minho flicked his eyes over to him. “No, but I can take a message,” Minho said. After a moment, his face dropped a little. “Alright, I’ll tell him. Thank you.” He hung up. </p><p>“That was the mechanic’s shop,” Minho told him, getting off him and walking over to the bathroom. “Bruce told them we were staying here. Gunther will be ready to go in about an hour.”</p><p>Chan sat up. “Do you want to get breakfast?”</p><p>Minho shrugged. “Sure.”</p><p>In twenty minutes, they were ready and checking out of their hotel. Chan led them to a diner across the street, their duffle bags in tow. It wasn’t until he was halfway through shoving a metric ton of breakfast food into his mouth that the fog of sleep wore off and reality finally caught up to him.</p><p>He and Minho had been making small talk since they woke up, exchanging shy, small smiles and telling jokes, but they hadn’t talked once about what had happened last night. Any of it. </p><p>Honestly, Chan didn’t want to talk about it. He knew they would have to eventually address that Chan had admitted that he was still in love with Minho, but he didn’t want to force it. Maybe Minho didn’t feel the same way. Maybe he was just being nice last night, calming down and cuddling with Chan so he wouldn’t have another panic attack in the room with him. </p><p>Chan couldn’t tear his eyes away from him as he watched him gulp down coffee on the other side of the booth. Even if he wished it wasn’t, what happened last night was a one time thing. It would be better to just leave it alone and be happy that he and Minho were at least talking again.</p><p>“This tastes like shit,” Minho said, slamming the coffee mug down with a bit too much force. </p><p>Chan laughed a little. “That’s your third cup.”</p><p>“It’s just a carrier for the caffeine, and I’m going to need a lot of it today.” Now that he had mentioned it, Chan noticed the dark circles under his eyes had grown darker than before. </p><p>“Didn’t sleep well?” Chan asked.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Minho said. “I got like three hours. You know how it is.”</p><p>Chan nodded. He did know how it was. Most of his nights now were spent staring at the ceiling trying to sleep or writing music (for a career that was never going to exist) to distract himself. Last night though, he had slept like a baby in Minho’s arms. He couldn't help but feel disappointed that Minho hadn’t felt the same way.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Chan said. </p><p>“It’s whatever.”</p><p>They finished their breakfast, split the bill, and began the short walk to the mechanic’s shop. It was only about five minutes away. </p><p>When they got there, Gunther was already parked outside of the shop, other vehicles now occupying the stalls. Chan went in and paid, suppressed the urge to cry at how much money he was charging to his credit card, and walked back out, keys in hand.</p><p>“I hate capitalism,” Chan grumbled as he and Minho put their duffle bags in the bed again. </p><p>Minho nodded knowingly. “She’s a real bitch.”</p><p>They gassed up and then they were back on the road, now only about two hours from Haven. Chan tuned in to the classic rock station now that they were close enough to one of the only three radio stations in their area. </p><p>As they drove through the twists and turns of the mountains, Minho began to lean forward every few minutes and then jerked back up again, presumably drifting in and out of shallow sleep.</p><p>“You can take a nap,” Chan said, patting the bench seat next to him. </p><p>Minho didn’t even say anything, just curled up on his side on the old cloth upholstery. Chan turned the music down. Within a few minutes, Chan heard cute little snores that meant Minho had really and truly passed out. </p><p>The situation reminded him of countless sleepovers they had had when they were younger. More times than Chan could count, he had laid there in the dark after Minho had long since fallen asleep, turned on his side to look at his face in the dark, memorized the pattern of his breathing, the way the light coming through the cracks in the blinds lit up his face.</p><p>It had always been Minho for him. The thought wasn’t new: it was something he had felt for most of his life. He had felt it at sleepovers in elementary school, when they decided to practice kissing together in middle school, when he finally got up the nerve to confess his feelings in high school. He had felt it even when he was breaking up with him. Chan had convinced himself that it didn’t matter, that he was doing what was best. </p><p>Every moment they had shared together in the past day made him rethink that.</p><p>Chan shook his head to dislodge the thoughts. They were here for a reason and it wasn’t for Chan to wax poetic about his ex. It was to help a friend in need. Actually, probably to help all of their friends.</p><p>The two hours passed by quickly. Before he knew it, they were passing by the houses and ranches on the outskirts of Haven. The speed limit began to slow, the road twisting up the mountain and into town.</p><p>Chan squeezed Minho’s shoulder to wake him up. He shot up with a start, glancing around the truck. “How long was I asleep?”</p><p>“An hour and a half or so,” Chan said as Minho yawned, stretching as much as he could in the truck. “We’re almost there.”</p><p>“Do you mind dropping me off at Jisung’s house?” Minho asked. </p><p>Chan shrugged. “Sure. Did you tell your mom that you were coming?”</p><p>“No,” Minho said. “But I’ll walk over there to say hi before we leave, I guess.”</p><p>Chan swallowed, trying to figure out how to bring this up without upsetting him. “Are things still bad?”</p><p>Minho’s parents had divorced during junior year and his mom had basically kicked his dad and his cats out of the house without giving Minho an explanation, something he still hadn’t forgiven her for. His dad had moved across the country and he hadn’t seen him since. </p><p>“Things are always bad,” Minho said. “I would rather not think about it.”</p><p>Chan didn’t press any further. He knew that this was a hard subject. Even when they were dating they hadn’t talked about it much.</p><p>“Jisung’s should be fun,” he said instead. </p><p>“Yeah,” Minho said. “Even if he’s a mess the whole time, which he probably will be, it will be good to see him.”</p><p>As they entered town, Chan felt a weight lift from his chest a little. No matter how many good or bad things happened here, this was home. The smell of the soil after the rain, the switch-back streets on the side of the mountains that made no sense, the knowledge of where everyone he loved was at any given point in time. It felt so comforting that Chan almost wanted to cry again. </p><p>He wove through the streets, finding Jisung’s house by muscle memory, passing Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Felix’s houses on the way. He pulled up in front of the cabin-style house, turning to face Minho, who was facing the window. </p><p>“Hey,” Chan said. “Good luck.”</p><p>Minho turned back to look at him. He smiled softly. “Thanks.”</p><p>“If you, um, if you need me, you know my number,” Chan said, feeling his cheeks heat up for no good reason. “And I guess we’ll head back tomorrow?”</p><p>Minho nodded. “I’ll let you know.” He opened the passenger side door to get out, but turned around at the last second. “Thank you, Chan. You didn’t have to do this.”</p><p>“Yes, I did,” Chan said. He hoped that somehow, his tone conveyed what he couldn’t say. That he was happy to. That he would do it again and again. He would do anything for him. Even though it was only a day that he and Minho would be apart, he felt a gaping hole of loneliness well up inside of him at the thought of leaving him again. </p><p>Minho leaned across the seat and planted a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll see you soon,” he whispered. </p><p>The door shut and Chan just stared at it, frozen in place. Then, he closed his eyes, pushed down his feelings again, opened his eyes, and pulled back onto the road.</p><p>His own house was just a short drive away. When he pulled into the driveway, his mom ran out of the house to greet him with Berry, their dog, close at her heels. He got out of his truck and was instantly wrapped in a bone-crushing hug. </p><p>“Hi, Mom,” he said with a laugh.</p><p>“You scared the shit out of me,” she said, still not letting go of him. “Take better care of your truck.”</p><p>She stood back and held him at arm's length. “You have a new boyfriend?” she asked, looking pointedly at his neck. </p><p>Chan brought his hands up to cover the hickeys that he had forgotten were there. “Oh my god, Mom, no. Can we not talk about that?”</p><p>She shrugged, turning around to walk back into the house. “Whatever, you’re an adult,” she said. “I just hope you’re happy.”</p><p>“I’ll be in in a second,” Chan called, grabbing his duffle bag out of the bed and rummaging around for his hoodie. Maybe having the hood up would cover his neck up enough. </p><p>When he got inside, he hugged his dad, brother, and sister and none of them had anything to say about it, which was nice. He sat on the floor with his siblings, playing with Berry for a good long while, talking about how college was going for him, and how high school was going for them. </p><p>It was so good to be home. He had missed them so much, no matter how much they sometimes drove him insane. It reminded him why he had made the decisions he had. He would do anything for his family’s happiness. </p><p>After they all had lunch and were sitting on the couch to watch a movie, the home phone rang. His mom answered it before she held it out to him. “It’s for you.”</p><p>Chan took the phone and retreated to his old room. “Hello?” He sat down on the bed.</p><p>“Hey,” Minho’s voice answered, slightly staticy. He felt light-headed all of a sudden, remembering all the late-night calls he had had with Minho in this very room. </p><p>“Hi,” he said, stupidly. He didn’t think Minho would actually call him.</p><p>“Um, I was just wondering if you wanted to come over to Jisung’s house tonight?” he asked. “We’re trying to get everyone to come over and have a talk.”</p><p>Chan was silent for a little too long, lost in his thoughts and old memories. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I’ll be there. What time?”</p><p>“Around eight, we were thinking.”</p><p>“Alright. I’ll see you then.”</p><p>“See you then.” Minho hung up and the line went dead.</p><p>Chan set the phone down, walked over to his old desk and sat down, running his finger through the small layer of dust that covered everything. He picked up one of the many framed pictures of him and Minho that decorated the space. </p><p>In it, the two of them were at a bonfire. Other people who went to their high school were blurry silhouettes in the background. Chan was sitting with Minho in his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist, his chin hooked over his shoulder as they both smiled, bright and genuine for the picture. </p><p>A knock sounded at his door. Chan turned around in his desk chair. “Come in.”</p><p>His mom opened the door. She closed it behind her and walked over to sit on his bed. Gently, she reached over and took the picture frame out of his hand. Her gaze flicked between it and him as a sad smile formed on her face. “What’s going on, honey?”</p><p>There was something about his mom asking him that broke the dam he had built inside his mind to keep all of his feelings for Minho at bay. All of the feelings that had been coming to the surface since last night. Chan brought his hands to his face, willing himself not to cry again. His hands dragged down his face before settling in his lap. He stared at them, refusing to look up. </p><p>“I don’t know anymore, Mom,” he said, his voice breaking. He brought his legs up, resting his feet on the chair, he head on his knees.</p><p>His mom reached out and took one of his hands. “Tell me, Channie.” He loved his mom so much.</p><p>“I came here with Minho,” he said, his voice still shaking. “And I don’t want to, but I think I still love him.”</p><p>His mom made a noise of understanding. “Why did you break up with him in the first place, sweetie? You never really told us.”</p><p>“I thought it would be better for both of us,” he said. “I thought that because I had to come back and live here, and he wants to go on and do all these amazing things that I would just be holding him back. I thought that it was better, that we were going to grow apart.”</p><p>“Why do you think you have to come back here?” she asked, brows knitting together in confusion.</p><p>“Because I have to take over the store,” Chan said.</p><p>“Oh, Channie,” his mother said with a sigh. “No. We always thought that was what you wanted, but it was never an obligation. We just want you to be happy. I know your dad is really bad at showing it, but he does too.” She squeezed his hand. “If being with Minho and going and following him out of Haven is what will make you happy, then that’s what will make us happy.”</p><p>“But what about the store? You and Dad have worked your whole lives on it.”</p><p>“Because that was <i>our</i> dream. We wanted to settle down in the town that we grew up in, open a business, and raise a family. We don’t expect you to have to want that. Did your dad push for that a little hard? Yes. But you never told us you didn’t want it, so we just assumed.”</p><p>Chan’s whole world felt like it was being turned upside down. “Mom,” he said. “I screwed up.” He could have music. He could have had <i>Minho</i>.</p><p>His mom pulled him over to the bed and wrapped him in a hug. She rubbed a soothing hand down his back. “You’re okay, Channie. You made the best decision you could with what you thought was true at the time.”</p><p>“I love him so much,” he admitted, his voice shaking.</p><p>“I know. I know you do,” she said. “And you can still fix it.”</p><p>Chan didn’t know how long they sat there, his mom rubbing his back and humming songs he vaguely remembered her listening to when he was a kid. </p><p>“I don’t know what to do,” he finally said after he had calmed down a bit. He sat up, looking at her again.</p><p>“You go and you tell him everything,” she said. “You tell him that you were stupid and that you love him.”</p><p>Chan nodded, feeling the nerves and fear of being vulnerable flood into him. “Okay,” he said. “I can do that.”</p><p>He spent the next few hours until he was supposed to go over to Jisung’s hanging out with his family, but mentally he was very far away. He was trying to figure out exactly what to say, exactly how to make Minho understand how stupid he had been and how much he regretted every bit of it. </p><p>At 7:50, he bid his family goodbye, gave his mom an extra long hug, and got back in his truck to drive to Jisung’s.</p><p>When he got there, he saw Felix and Seungmin’s cars were already parked outside. He smiled at the thought of seeing his friends again, even though he was still a nervous wreck. He walked up the sidewalk and rang the doorbell. It opened almost instantly, Felix’s smiling face greeted him. Chan smiled back at him so big his cheeks ached, wrapping him in a hug. </p><p>“It’s so good to see you,” Felix said.</p><p>“You too,” Chan said, melting instantly in the arms of his best friend. “I missed you.”</p><p>“I missed you, too,” Felix said. He pulled away and sighed. “Everything went to shit when you left.”</p><p>Seungmin and Jeongin came down the stairs and took their turns excitedly hugging him. It had only been a few months since he had seen them, but he had missed them all so very much. Jeongin, the little shit, pointed out the bruises on his neck. </p><p>“Let’s just not talk about it, please,” Chan said.</p><p>They led him up to the attic, which their friend group had converted into their hang out space over the years, where Jisung and Minho were hanging out. Jisung immediately got up and ran to Chan, lifting him up as he squeezed him tight. </p><p>“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Jisung said, giving him a smile that didn’t quite look real. </p><p>“I know the feeling,” Chan said, poking his cheeks like he always used to. Jisung let out a laugh and it made Chan’s heart feel a bit lighter.  </p><p>“We’ve got Changbin on the phone,” Minho said from the couch, pointing to the landline phone that was on speaker on the coffee table. </p><p>“Changbin!” Chan called, sitting on the floor at the coffee table across from Minho. </p><p>“Chan!” Changbin called back. </p><p>It almost felt like old times, all of them hanging out in Jisung’s attic, talking about school, music, anime, plans for the future. The only things that made it different were that Changbin wasn’t physically there, Hyunjin wasn’t there at all yet, and there was a palpable thread of tension between Chan and Minho. </p><p>“Is Hyunjin coming?” Chan asked Felix, who had sat down next to him on the floor. </p><p>“He’ll be here,” Felix said quietly. “But only because you and Minho are here. He wouldn’t have come otherwise.”</p><p>“Is it really that bad?”Chan asked.</p><p>Felix nodded. “It’s really bad.”</p><p>The sound of footsteps on the stairs pulled their focus. When Hyunjin appeared at the top of the stairs, he looked over all of them before waving hello. He walked over to Jeongin and sat down on the floor next to him.</p><p>Hyunjin looked exhausted, more so than any of them. Chan felt out of his depth. What could he do to fix any of this? He couldn't even get his own shit together. But with all of them together, maybe they could get something done. </p><p>“The way I see it, we have two major issues to resolve,” Seungmin said. He was always one to be brutally honest. “The first, and probably the most pressing one, is whatever the fuck is going on with Jisung and Hyunjin.” Hyunjin leaned against Jeongin, casting his eyes down. “Second is what happened this summer that made us all start to drift apart in the first place.”</p><p>“How are we doing this?” Hyunjin asked. </p><p>“Why did you stop talking to us, Hyunjin?” Felix asked. </p><p>Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand why everything is always my fault.”</p><p>“It’s not, but you did start this,” Seungmin said with a shrug. </p><p>“No, I fucking didn’t,” Hyunjin said, sitting up straight. “Jisung did. Ever since the beginning of the semester he’s been pushing me away and acting like a dick. So, I just thought maybe you guys just kept me around because Chan, Minho, and Changbin liked me and now that they were gone you guys could ditch me or something.”</p><p>“That’s not true at all,” Jeongin said. </p><p>“No, I know you like me,” Hyunjin said. “But you two.” He pointed at Felix and Seungmin. “You always take Jisung’s side in literally everything. You treat me like I’m stupid and I’m so sick of it.”</p><p>They were all quiet for a moment, none of them really sure what to say. Chan looked up at Minho and met his gaze. Minho shrugged as if to say there was nothing much they could do.</p><p>“I’ve never thought you were dumb, Hyunjin,” Felix said. “I was just… I think Seungmin and I were just worried about Jisung. But we didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”</p><p>“I was just teasing,” Seungmin said. “I’m really sorry, Hyunjin.”</p><p>They all turned to Jisung then. </p><p>Jisung closed his eyes, shook his head, and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding like he was trying not to cry. “I’m an asshole.”</p><p>“Why don’t you tell him what you told me?” Minho asked, squeezing his knee. </p><p>Jisung looked over at Hyunjin and then looked away. “I thought you… I thought you didn’t want to be my friend anymore. I know it’s stupid, and I feel like an idiot now that I talked to Minho and Changbin about it, but I thought that you were tired of me when you said you didn’t want to go to State anymore.” Jisung took a shaky breath. “After Chan and Minho broke up and the friend group kind of fell apart, I was just so depressed. And I kind of thought that if anyone would always be there, it would be you. Which isn’t fair. And I shouldn’t have taken it out on you either.” </p><p>Chan looked over at Hyunjin and saw that he was crying, shaking his head, looking at Jisung. “You’re an idiot,” he said. </p><p>“I know,” Jisung said. “But can we be friends again anyway? I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Hyunjin let out a wet laugh though tears. “Of course we can,” he said. He got up and walked over to where Jisung was sitting on the couch, struggling not to cry, and sat down next to him, wrapping him in a hug. Jisung leaned into him, the tears finally falling.  </p><p>“I don’t even know that I’m not going to State,” Hyunjin said, resting his head against Jisung’s. It was Jisung’s turn to laugh. </p><p>“So, we’re good?” Seungmin asked. </p><p>“We’re both really sorry,” Felix said. </p><p>“We’re good,” Hyunjin said. “Just don’t do that shit again.”</p><p>Seungmin and Felix both nodded. </p><p>“Okay, now,” Jeongin said, bringing the attention over to him. “Can we all agree to try to hang out and make time for each other again? Because I think that’s the main problem.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Changbin’s voice sounded through the speaker. “There’s only so much Jeongin, Felix, and I can do to try to get us all to get along. You guys have to do it too.”</p><p>It had kind of always been that way. Chan used to be that person, the main one in the group who did it, but he had drifted away from all of them.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Chan said. “I’ve been really selfish. No matter what happened between me and Minho, I should never have let it affect us all like this.”</p><p>“I shouldn’t have either,” Minho said. “It’s not all your fault.”</p><p>“Also, are you guys having sex?” Jisung said, extracting an arm from Hyunjin to point at Chan’s neck. </p><p>“Wait, what?” Changbin asked, unable to see. </p><p>“Chan has a shit-ton of hickies, Bin,” Felix clarified. </p><p>“We have some things to talk about,” Chan said, feeling his cheeks warm up. “But no matter what happens with that, we’re all going to be close friends again. I promise.”</p><p>“You guys actually have to put in effort,” Felix said, pointing at all of them. “If you don’t, I’m going to kick you.”</p><p>They all laughed at him and Chan pulled him into an unwilling hug. “What? I will!” he squawked in protest.</p><p>“We know you could,” Minho said. “But you wouldn’t.”</p><p>“Alright, fine,” Felix grumbled, hugging Chan back. </p><p>They spent the rest of the night talking and catching up, the barriers that had been holding them back from each other all but destroyed. The rest of them broke off to talk or play video games together, but Hyunjin and Jisung were mostly stuck in their own world, whispering and giggling at jokes only they knew, but no one was really surprised.  This recent fight was just a bump in the road that had been the journey that most likely ended with them getting together, and everyone knew it. </p><p>Chan looked over at Minho from where he had been sitting and playing Mario Kart with Felix and Jeongin. Minho was already looking at him as he sat on the floor talking to Seungmin and Changbin. </p><p>Minho’s face heated up and Chan just smiled at him, soft and filled with affection that threatened to overwhelm him. He had to do this tonight. He couldn’t wait any longer. </p><p>“Hey, Seungmin,” Chan called. He held up the controller in his hands. “You wanna play?”</p><p>Seungmin looked over at Minho, back to Chan, and rolled his eyes. “Sure,” he said. He brought the phone with him and took the controller from Chan.</p><p>Chan walked over and sat next to Minho. He wanted to reach out and take his hand, and this time he didn’t stop himself. Minho looked down at their hands, weaving his fingers between Chan’s. </p><p>“Can we talk?” Chan asked, studying his face. “Like, really talk?”</p><p>Minho nodded at him. “Maybe not here though?”</p><p>“Good idea,” Chan said. He got up, pulling Minho with him, not letting go of his hand. </p><p>That got everyone’s attention. </p><p>“We’re gonna go for a bit,” Chan explained. “I’ll bring Minho back later.” </p><p>“Wow, now it really feels like old times,” Felix teased, winking at Chan. </p><p>“Have fun, be safe. Minho, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you,” Jisung said before going back to talking with Hyunjin. Chan didn’t even bother trying to correct their assumptions. It was kind of endearing, in a way. </p><p>They didn’t stop holding hands until they got to Chan’s truck. Chan got behind the wheel and started it up, turning to Minho again like a moth to a flame. </p><p>“Wanna go to our old spot?” he asked.</p><p>“Sure,” Minho said, his smile so sweet it made Chan want to cry.</p><p>Their old spot was the entrance to a hiking trail that was closed by this time of night and out of the way of the main road. They had found it  when Chan first got his learner’s permit. While they had changed it up over the years, that spot was tried and true, a great place for all manner of activities. </p><p>Chan pulled in and turned off his truck. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to Minho. </p><p>“Let’s go sit in the back,” Minho suggested. Chan nodded. </p><p>They retrieved the blankets from the backseat, laid them out over the bed, and sat on either side, facing each other. </p><p>“So,” Chan said, after a moment of listening to the breeze rustling in the leaves. </p><p>“So,” said Minho. Chan saw him raise his eyebrows in question, bathed in the light of the moon.</p><p>“God, I don’t even know where to start.” Chan raked his hands down his face, frustrated with himself. He had rehearsed this all day, but now that it came down to it, he couldn’t think straight. </p><p>“Just start from the beginning,” Minho said. He brought a hand to Chan’s calf, squeezing as though to ground him. </p><p>“I guess I should start with the breakup,” Chan said. </p><p>“Yeah, that’s the main thing,” Minho agreed. </p><p>The thing was, Chan didn’t really think that was true now.</p><p>“I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t love you Minho,” he said softly. “I broke up with you because I thought that was what was best for you.”</p><p>Minho looked even more confused. “What the fuck?”</p><p>Chan brought a hand to the back of his neck. “I broke up with you because I thought it was my job to stay here and take over my parents’ store. I thought that it was my duty, that I couldn’t change it. You always had big dreams, Minho, and I didn’t want to hold you back. However much I wanted you, I thought I was doing the right thing.”</p><p>“I’m surrounded by idiots,” Minho said, shaking his head. “First Jisung, now you. Lord, when will everyone just learn to talk about things instead of just assuming?”</p><p>“I wish I could take it all back,” Chan said. “I wish I could go back in time and tell myself to not make the biggest mistake of my life. Not only did my mom tell me that it wasn’t true, that they didn’t care what I did, but that even if that was true, I shouldn’t have broken up with you.” Chan took in a breath.“I love you, Minho. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved, ever since I knew what love was. And I was stupid, and I hurt you, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. But if you feel the same way, if you love me too, please give me another chance. Maybe I can never make it right, maybe I’m an idiot, but I’m so in love with you. I’ll never let you go again.”</p><p>Minho was crying, searching Chan’s face for something, maybe some indication that he was lying. “Even when I hated your guts for breaking my heart, I never stopped loving you, Chan. And, honestly, I’m not that mad at you anymore. I think last night somehow knocked that out of me,” he laughed a little. “But you did hurt me, Chan. And you better be telling the truth right now because I want so badly to believe it.”</p><p>Chan crawled forward, sitting cross-legged in front of him. He held both of Minho’s hands in his, resting their foreheads together. </p><p>“I will love you for my entire life, Lee Minho,” he whispered. “I will never break your heart again. And if I do, you can punch me and tell me I’m being an idiot and I’ll fix it again.” </p><p>Minho pulled his hands away gently. He crawled into Chan’s lap, holding his face in his hands like it might break. “You promise?” He breathed the words against Chan’s lips, close enough to touch.</p><p>“I promise.” </p><p>Chan closed the distance between them. The press of their lips together was the most achingly beautiful thing he had ever felt. He wrapped his arms around Minho, trying to pull him as close as he possibly could. </p><p>“I love you,” Minho whispered in between kisses. He ran his thumbs across Chan’s cheeks, kissed him like they had all the time in the world to savor it. Chan’s hands found their way under Minho’s shirt, fingertips running over the smooth skin. </p><p>Somehow, this didn’t feel real. He was so afraid that he would wake up in his dorm room and realize that this had all been a dream. He pulled back from Minho, who slowly opened his eyes to look at him. </p><p>Minho smiled, a soft tender thing. “You okay?” he asked. </p><p>Chan looked at the beautiful boy who, by some miracle, loved him. “I’ve dreamt about you so much,” he said, drawing shapes on his back. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”</p><p>“This is real, love.” Minho kissed his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. “I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you.”</p><p>“Okay,” Chan breathed, diving back in for another kiss. Even if it was a dream, it was by far the best one he had ever had.</p><p>Minho’s mouth was warm against his, parting easily for Chan. His hands moved Chan’s hair, fingers running through it reverently. The kiss was messy, tongues and spit broken up by sighs and moans that neither of them knew the origin of anymore. </p><p>Chan pushed up on Minho’s shirt. Minho got the message, detaching from him long enough to tug it over his head. Chan did the same, instantly pulling Minho back against him, kissing down his neck, along his collarbones and shoulders. Going any lower would require him pulling back from Minho, which he really didn’t want to do. He wanted to feel their skin together, to not be parted from him again.</p><p>Minho coaxed him up with a gentle tug in his hair, kissing him again. His hips moved, maybe intentionally, maybe of their own accord. Either way, the feeling of Minho’s ass against his cock was enough to make him fully hard. </p><p>Instinct moved him, hands gripping Minho’s hips to grind him down onto his lap again. They groaned into each other’s mouths. Minho dropped his head to Chan’s shoulder as he let himself be moved by Chan’s hands. Chan was lost in the sensation, Minho's broken noises muffled against his neck with each movement.</p><p>“What do you want, baby?” Chan asked.</p><p>Minho picked his head up to look at him, moving on his own now. “What do you want?” he asked.</p><p>Chan let out a breathy laugh. “Don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t think I would get this far.”</p><p>That made Minho smile again, kissing him sweetly. He left a trail of kisses all the way to his ear. “I miss having you inside me, Chan,” he whispered, like he was telling a secret. </p><p>The image that conjured was intoxicating, a reality that his brain was having a hard time processing. “You sure?” Chan asked. </p><p>Minho moved to look at him in the eyes. “You have no idea how sure.”</p><p>“I think I still have stuff,” Chan said, his heart rate speeding up to a surely dangerous level. </p><p>“I can check,” Minho said. A slight shadow passed over his face. “You haven’t been with anyone else since me, right? You’re clean?”</p><p>“No,” Chan said, kissing his forehead. “I’ve only ever been with you.”</p><p>Minho smiled. “Good.”</p><p>Chan whined when he got off of his lap, grabbing his wrist before he could stand up. Pure fondness filled Minho’s eyes. </p><p>He leaned forward to give him a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back, love.”</p><p>Chan watched every one of Minho’s movements, mind consumed with him; with an overwhelming, possessive need for him. He couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before — couldn’t really think of anything right now apart from Minho.</p><p>“Got it,” Minho said, holding up the half used bottle of lube triumphantly. He climbed back into the truck bed only to be immediately pulled down by his free hand by Chan. </p><p>Chan took the bottle, set it aside, and flipped Minho onto his back, kissing him like he had been gone for years instead of minutes. Minho giggled into the kiss, a sound that made Chan’s heart soar.</p><p>For a moment, he pulled away to look at Minho again. His cheeks were red, lips swollen from kissing him, pupils blown wide, focused only on Chan. </p><p>“You’re unreal,” Chan said softly, tracing his fingertips over the lines of his face. “You’re too beautiful to be mine.” He pulled Minho’s bottom lip down with his thumb.</p><p>Minho sucked the thumb into his mouth and lightly bit down on it, letting it go again. The flame in his eyes had been stoked to a wildfire. “Then make me yours.”</p><p>Chan leaned back down to kiss him, groaning at the feeling of Minho’s tongue against his. They made quick work of Minho’s remaining clothes, Chan undoing Minho’s pants while he kicked his shoes off. He ran his hands up Minho’s thighs, taking his time to memorize the feeling of his skin under his fingertips. </p><p>Maybe it was the cool night air or the gentle touches that made Minho shiver. Chan smiled into the kiss, moving to take Minho’s cock in his hand, stroking gently. He moaned into Chan’s mouth when he smeared precome around the head, bucking up against him.</p><p>Chan pulled away from the kiss momentarily to look for the discarded bottle of lube. When he returned to Minho, he kissed his neck as he opened the bottle, spreading some on the hand he brought away from his cock. Minho gasped as Chan pushed one finger slowly into him. </p><p>“You okay?” Chan asked, letting Minho adjust a bit.</p><p>“I’m great,” Minho said. Chan began to pump in and out, lightly pushing against his walls, soon stretching him enough to add another. </p><p>Chan brought his mouth to Minho’s again, swallowing his little moans. He worked him open carefully, taking in how exactly each movement affected Minho. There wasn’t much Chan loved more than fingering Minho. He was so responsive, pressing down against his fingers, hands clutching at his arms, the noises that it brought out of him. Chan didn’t know how he had ever given this up for anything. </p><p>Chan added another finger, stroking against him, opening him up. It didn’t take him long to find the exact spot that made Minho into a moaning mess. Chan knew Minho’s body almost better than his own. Minho cried out as Chan pressed against it on every thrust. </p><p>“Please,” Minho breathed against his mouth.</p><p>“Hmm?” Chan smirked. He knew exactly what he wanted.</p><p>“I need you- hah!” Minho arched into his touch. “I need you inside me. God, why aren’t you inside me?”</p><p>Chan laughed, pulling his fingers out, kissing the tip of nose. “You’re so cute.”</p><p>“Don’t call me cute when you’re about to fuck me,” Minho said, a pout on his kiss-bitten lips. </p><p>Chan took off his shoes and pants, kicking them into a pile by Minho’s clothes. He squeezed out some more lube, slicking up his cock as he looked down at Minho and almost thrust into his own hand with how pent up he was. </p><p>“How about gorgeous? Unbelievably sexy? The hottest man alive?” He moved between Minho’s thighs, hooking a knee over his shoulder. </p><p>“That’s a little better,” Minho said.</p><p>Chan teased the head against Minho’s hole, causing him to push back against Chan, searching for more. “What about the love of my life?” He pressed a kiss against his inner thigh.</p><p>“Mmm,” Minho hummed in agreement. “That’s the best one. Now, are you going to fuck me, or do I have to do it myself?” </p><p>The thought of Minho desperately fucking himself on Chan’s cock was a fun thought, but not what he wanted right now. </p><p>“Needy baby,” Chan teased, beginning to push in. </p><p>The feeling of pushing into Minho’s tight ass would have been enough to make him come right there if he had wanted to. But what he wanted was to make Minho come first, his name on his lips. </p><p>When he had pushed all the way in, he pressed his forehead against Minho’s. He was thankful for Minho’s history as a dancer, years of flexibility making it possible. They breathed each other in, waiting for Minho to adjust. Chan ran a soothing hand down his leg, the other hand rubbing circles in his hip bone. </p><p>“Please,” Minho said again, all the teasing bravado gone. </p><p>“I’ve got you,” Chan whispered. </p><p>He pulled out halfway, pushing back in slowly, studying Minho’s face for signs of discomfort. Finding none, he began thrusting into him, careful at first not to go too hard. Minho whimpered, looking small underneath him.</p><p>“Chan,” he pleaded. “More, please more, please.”</p><p>“Anything for you, my love,” Chan said. </p><p>He fucked into him faster, pulling almost all of the way out each time, drawing out more gorgeous moans from Minho. Chan was drunk on them. Minho moved his legs to hook around Chan’s back, pulling him in closer. His thrusts were shorter now, but harder. Chan brought Minho’s hands down from around his neck to rest above his head, weaving their fingers together. His lips were attached to Minho’s neck, sucking and biting marks to match his own. </p><p>“Fuck,” Minho gasped, arching up into him. </p><p>Chan couldn’t tell anymore where his body ended and Minho’s began. He was so consumed by him, so wrapped up in their pleasure. Chan wanted to make it last, wanted to fuck Minho all night, but the pleasure was quickly overwhelming him and he wanted more than anything for Minho to come first.</p><p>He brought one hand down to Minho’s neglected cock, the residual lube on his hand making the slide easy. Minho cried out, pushing up into his hand and then back down on his cock.</p><p>“Chan, I’m gonna come,” he moaned. “Fuck, I love you so much.” Minho tightened his legs around Chan, pulling him deeper into him.</p><p>“I love you, Minho,” Chan said. He pressed a wet kiss against his mouth. “Come on baby, let me see you come.”</p><p>At that, Minho clenched up around him with a broken moan, come spilling all over his stomach. Chan wanted the face he made to be imprinted in his mind forever. He had done that. </p><p>Minho broke his hands away from where they were being held above his head and wrapped them around Chan’s neck. “Come in me, baby,” he whimpered. </p><p>“Fuck, Minho,” Chan groaned, fucking into him harder. “You’re gonna kill me.”</p><p>Minho laughed, small and breathy. “Just let go, my love.” </p><p>He lost every ounce of willpower to hold back at those words. Chan buried his head in Minho’s neck, crying out as he came. He kept pumping into Minho until he was completely spent. </p><p>When it was over, he slumped against Minho. He didn’t have it in him to pull out yet. Minho kissed his temple as they both calmed their breathing down. </p><p>Chan finally pushed himself up on his elbows, looking at Minho. He smiled, cupped Chan’s cheek in his hands. “That was…”</p><p>“Yeah,” Chan agreed, smiling back. </p><p>“Can we do that all the time?” Minho asked, like he already knew the answer.</p><p>“We can do that everyday until we die, if that’s what you want.” Chan pressed a kiss into his hair. </p><p>“I want to fuck you next, though.” Minho squeezed his ass to prove his point. </p><p>“Mmm, yes please,” Chan said. He leaned down, kissing him lazily, slowly. </p><p>When the night air began to get a bit too chilly, Chan pulled away. “We probably can’t stay out here forever.”</p><p>Minho pouted at him. “You’re right,” he said unhappily.</p><p>Chan carefully pulled out of him, watched his come drip out of Minho’s ass. “God, that’s hot.” He ran his finger through it, bringing it up and putting it in his mouth, making eye contact with Minho the entire time. </p><p>“Oh my god, stop. We cannot go again,” Minho said with a groan. “It’s getting cold.”</p><p>“Fine, fine,” Chan said, smirking. </p><p>He cleaned Minho up with one of the blankets, leaving it balled in the truck bed for him to wash later. They got dressed and gathered the other blankets, tossing them in the back seat. </p><p>Minho took Chan’s hand once they got into the truck again. “I don’t want to leave you,” he said softly. </p><p>Chan kissed the back of his hand. He felt the same way. “Wanna sleep at my house?” </p><p>“What about your parents?”</p><p>“I don’t give a shit about my parents.”</p><p>Minho laughed. “Okay, then.”</p><p>When they got to Chan’s house, they crept through to Chan’s room as quietly as they could, trying to stifle their giggles at how funny it was to be doing this again after all this time. They showered together quickly — well, as quickly as they could when they kept stopping what they were doing to make out every few minutes. </p><p>Minho borrowed some of Chan’s old pajamas to sleep in, a sight that made Chan want to fuck him again. He held himself back, this time. There would be plenty of chances for that when they were back at school. </p><p>They fell asleep laying on their sides, Minho’s head tucked against Chan’s chest, holding each other as close as humanly possible. It was the best sleep Chan had had in months. </p><p>…</p><p>The next morning, they faced surprisingly little scrutiny from Chan’s family, just some raised eyebrows from his siblings and a knowing smile from his mom. </p><p>They were set to leave town already but they decided to call the boys last minute, arranging to meet them all for breakfast before they left. </p><p>When Chan hugged his mom goodbye, she said, “Good job, honey.” </p><p>He blushed.</p><p>Chan and Minho met the others in the parking lot of their local cafe, holding hands and looking happier than the others had seen them in a long time. </p><p>“So, are you back together?” Hyunjin asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” said Minho, giving Chan’s hand a squeeze. </p><p>“I just think everyone should be aware that Minho didn’t come home last night,” Jisung said, handing Minho his duffle bag. </p><p>“Okay, Mom,” Minho said, rolling his eyes. He put the bag in the truck and they all headed in to get some food.</p><p>Chan squeezed into the booth next to Minho. He didn’t say much, just took the time to enjoy their friends’ presence, to revel in the fact that he could reach down and hold Minho’s hand under the table. </p><p>After they finished their food, Minho turned to him. “You okay?” he asked quietly. </p><p>Chan nodded. “I’m just really happy.”</p><p>Minho smiled at him and kissed him, soft and sweet. </p><p>This was met with a chorus of gagging noises from their friends. Chan pulled away and they both burst out laughing. The light in Minho’s eyes was enough to make him fall in love all over again. </p><p>When they were all done, they took turns hugging each of their friends goodbye, promising to call and all hang out again over Christmas. Minho took extra time with Jisung, letting him know he was there any time that he needed him. </p><p>Their friends drove away one by one, leaving Minho and Chan the last to pull out of the parking lot. Minho scooted over to the middle of the bench seat, kissing Chan on the cheek. “Let’s go home.”</p><p>Chan smiled, starting the truck. He took Minho’s hand in his again. “I’m already home, love.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic has a lot of me in it and I really appreciate you reading &lt;3 comments and kudos are much appreciated. </p><p>Thank you so much to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/8BitSkeleton/pseuds/8BitSkeleton">Bash</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesbianaCansada/pseuds/LesbianaCansada">Lyssa</a> for betaing this, I love you both sm. </p><p><a href="https://twitter.com/ichigolix">twitter</a> | <a href="https://curiouscat.me/ichigolix">cc</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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